


The Seventh Pact

by jenovan



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Edgar Allan Poe References, Eventual Smut, F/M, Foreplay, Just a hint of D/S, Orgasm Denial, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24211189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenovan/pseuds/jenovan
Summary: On Anavelle's last night in the Devildom, she slips out of her own party and goes wandering.  In Lucifer's study, she finds a lot more than she bargained for -- or rather, she finds a bargain waiting to be made... but at what price?Contains some major spoilers for the entire main storyline.
Relationships: Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 81





	1. Be Careful What You Wish For

**Author's Note:**

> So uh. This thing. I don't write a lot of smut for reasons that may become painfully obvious, but I've had this digging into my brain for over a month now, so here it goes. Apologies beforehand. orz
> 
> The poem quoted throughout is "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allan Poe.

Anavelle sighed in silent relief as she padded down the stairs from the attic. She really had been enjoying the impromptu farewell party with the boys, but a few hours of them was enough for a bit, no matter how sweet (well… relatively speaking) they were being.

 _And, well… one of them hasn’t seen fit to crash the party, has he?_ It wasn’t really surprising that the always-dignified Lucifer hadn’t deigned to join them, but…

She sighed again, this time wistfully. Out of all of them, of _course_ it had been the Avatar of Pride she’d fallen for -- the one least likely to return her feelings, apparently.

Really, though… it had been inevitable from the start.  
  


“I offer you a most heartfelt welcome, Anavelle.” Lucifer smiled, though his expression seemed more polite than _heartfelt_. “Anavelle Lee Shepard… Were your parents fans of Poe?”

Something in the man’s demeanor suggested that this was some sort of test. Did he really think she didn’t know her namesake? Especially when she was currently dressed in full-up Romantic Goth? “My father was. My mother insisted on something a bit less old-fashioned than ‘Annabel’.”

This time, when the dark-haired demon smiled, it reached his deep red eyes.  
  


 _“It was many and many a year ago,  
_ _In a kingdom by the sea,  
_ _That a maiden there lived whom you may know  
_ _By the name of Annabel Lee.”  
_

  
Listening to his beautiful baritone voice and trapped by his gaze, it was all too easy for Anavelle to forget they weren’t alone in the room. When he fell silent, her mind finished the stanza, readily imagining him speaking the lines he’d omitted:

 _  
“And this maiden she lived with no other thought  
_ _Than to love and be loved by me.”_

  
She knew she was blushing, and something subtle in Lucifer’s expression made her want to squirm. He obviously knew the rest of the stanza, and he knew that _she_ knew…

Her ears buzzed in embarrassment as she suddenly remembered where she was and the strangeness of her current situation. She’d heard that poem a million times, possibly literally. Why would this one recitation affect her like this? Had he cast some kind of spell on her?

But the demon continued with his orientation speech as if nothing remarkable had happened. Anavelle wasn’t sure if she was grateful for his nonchalance, or resentful of it.

  
  


The next several months had been… _fraught_ was maybe a good word. The brothers had taken turns vying for her attention and using her as a pawn in their petty schemes against each other, but she’d won them over, one by one -- even Belphegor, who had actually tried to _kill_ her. (Would she have as readily made up with a human who’d treated her that way? She wasn’t sure.) Now she, who had begun this adventure as a thoroughly ordinary, reticent grad student, was a witch-in-training, descended from a mortal reincarnation of an angel, holding pacts with six of the most powerful demons in the Devildom.

But not the seventh.

As she made her way to the kitchen on silent feet, a strain of orchestral music caught her ear. It was possible someone had left something playing down here when their pop-up party started, but maybe…

Following the sound and a wisp of hope, she found herself in the library. The hidden door to Lucifer’s office stood open, and the music was clearly coming from within. It almost -- _almost_ \-- seemed like an invitation, but like so many of her interactions with the Avatar of Pride, she wasn’t sure if she was just reading into it what she wanted to see.

It wasn’t as if he _disliked_ her -- she was fairly sure he would have made it clear long ago if that were the case. He had always been polite to her, even kind at times, and as time went on, he seemed to enjoy her company, especially in the moments when he had her to himself: an early breakfast before the other brothers came down, a game of chess, coffee and a shared slice of cake at the cafe... On the rare occasions when she’d worked up the nerve to give him a quick kiss or some other affectionate touch, he’d seemed happy to accept her overtures -- although she’d eventually realized he was never the one to initiate.

And then, of course, there were also the times when he’d been ready to quite literally kill her where she stood...

As with Belphie, she’d understood _why_ , and had forgiven him, but unlike with the youngest brother, that forgiveness hadn’t brought with it any sense of greater closeness. Belphie was downright snuggly with her at times; Anavelle couldn’t make her brain connect the words _snuggly_ and _Lucifer_ in any way.

Lost in thought, she’d drifted closer to the office door without noticing. As she hesitated, unsure of her welcome, Lucifer’s voice called out, his conversational tone barely audible over the music. “Anavelle. Instead of lurking around outside, why don’t you come in?”

Sheepishly, she stepped into the office. Lucifer stood by the fireplace, a glass of something in his hand; the music that had drawn her here floated down from the landing above. The demon followed her upward glance and smiled. “It sounds like quite the party up in the attic. Thanks to the fact that everyone else is busy up there, I get to stay here and enjoy my music in peace.”

That certainly made it sound like he didn’t want company, but he’d called her in -- had left the door open, even -- so what was she to make of that? _Well, I’m here… might as well try to make the most of it._ It was a bit pathetic, but even as introverted as she was, she fully planned to stretch this conversation out as long as she could, just to have a reason to be in his presence. “What is this you’re listening to? It sounds familiar, but...”

Lucifer seemed amused by the question. “It’s nice, don’t you think? This is the cursed vinyl edition of _The Tale of the Seven Lords_ soundtrack, which you managed to borrow from Levi for me.”

“Oh...” She thought back to when she’d handed him the record, before she’d made that fateful journey to the attic. _We demons can’t resist temptation,_ he’d told her. _When there’s something we really want staring us in the face, we have to have it._

Well, here she was… right in front of him… possibly for the last time. And yet.

She felt her chest growing tight and fought to think about something else, _anything_ else, than the fact that she was wasting her last night here pining after the one demon in this house who didn’t want her. She’d rather die than shed a single bitter tear in front of Lucifer. Thankfully, he wasn’t looking at her at the moment, apparently lost in his own thoughts as he gazed into the fire.

“It was in this very room that I selected you for our exchange program,” he said quietly, seemingly out of nowhere. “When I first welcomed you here, I was only doing it for Diavolo. I figured that if you managed to survive a year here without any incidents, that was really all I could ask for.” He gave her a wry smile. “But I somehow managed to choose a human who’s such a magnet for trouble that it almost defies belief.”

Anavelle had her own ideas about how she was “chosen”. Lucifer said a breeze had tossed some of his papers, and her name had landed at his feet, but… didn’t that seem like the sort of thing a ghost would do? Or… well… she didn’t know if Lilith had been a _ghost_ , exactly, but the things she’d experienced in connection to her distant ancestor made her extremely suspicious of coincidences. She’d never mentioned this idea to Lucifer, though. She had the feeling he wouldn’t believe her, or wouldn’t want to admit the possibility.

She suddenly realized that he was looking at her, studying her, and quickly averted her eyes. “There were times when I thought that I’d made a mistake, bringing you here,” he murmured.

“And now?” she dared to ask.

“What do you think?” He smiled, knowing that she knew the answer. “Obviously, I made the right choice. You’ve kept me quite entertained over the past year. In fact…” he smiled broadly, a rare expression on his handsome face. “This is probably the _most_ entertained I’ve been in my entire life.”

 _Entertained?_ She turned the word over in her mind as she smiled back. That… wasn’t what she was looking for. Still, the idea that she’d brought some sunshine into his life was a nice one. _At least he’ll probably remember me for that. And, well, bringing his family closer together and all._

They stood in not-quite-awkward-yet silence for several moments, the _TSL_ score providing an unnecessarily dramatic soundtrack for their private thoughts.

“So then, Anavelle.” Lucifer finally had mercy on her and spoke up. “Have you done all you set out to do here in the Devildom? No unfinished business? No loose ends?”

Something she’d learned early about the Avatar of Pride was that he didn’t ask questions that he didn’t know the answers to. It was just one more thing that made him so intimidating -- either he caught you in a lie, or he made you overthink your answers, like she was doing now.

 _What is he looking for? Is he trying to make me confess why I stumbled in here, when I should be at my farewell party? Or…_ _No. ‘Unfinished business’ means…_

“I still haven’t made a pact with you,” she blurted. _Smooth, girl, smooth._

The demon smiled, and Anavelle restrained a shiver, imagining a cat with a mouse pinned under its paw. She’d put her foot in it now. 

“Of course. You’ve made pacts with all of my brothers, which just leaves me.” He turned away from the fireplace and set his glass down on the nearby table, then regarded Anavelle, crossing his arms. “I don’t know exactly how each of my brothers felt about making pacts with you, but I am more than a name to be crossed off your list.”

The girl swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. This… probably wasn’t going to end well. Getting one of Lucifer’s legendary lectures on the eve of her departure was too much, and pretty well deep-sixed any fanciful notions she had about winning him over in the final hour.

“I can’t have you lumping me together with everyone else, just one more piece in your collection.” His expression was cold and disapproving. “I am the Avatar of Pride.” 

Anavelle’s vision began to blur around the edges in an unwantedly familiar way. _Oh. Oh, shit._

The brief sense of local reality _bending_ as a demon changed form was impossible to describe coherently. It wasn’t frightening in and of itself, but Anavelle’s run-ins with Lucifer in his true form had been… unpleasant, if not downright terrifying. She backed away slowly, hands raised in a half-hearted defensive gesture, or a mollifying one.

Lucifer’s smile was sinister as he made a slight gesture with one hand. Behind her, Anavelle heard the door to the library swinging shut; the quiet _click_ as it settled into place sounded more ominous than it had any right to. With nowhere else to go, she found herself trapped against the door as one of the most powerful entities in the Three Realms advanced on her.

“There’s no escape now, Anavelle.” He loomed over her, his wings casting shadows over the two of them. As always, his natural form was intimidating, but also breathtakingly beautiful in a way no mortal creature could be. In the low light, his dark red eyes seemed to actually glow, and she stared at him, transfixed. She wasn’t sure if she could actually summon the willpower to move unless he told her to.

And… angels and demons help her, she didn’t want to.

Her pulse was pounding in her ears, loud enough that she thought he must have been able to hear it. What did he _want?_ The way his eyes were boring into her, she wasn’t sure if he intended to ravish her or devour her. _Be careful what you wish for,_ she thought, struggling not to laugh hysterically in panic. She had longed for his attention… well, now she had it.

“We both know you’ve wanted this,” Lucifer murmured, uncannily echoing her thoughts. He reached out with a red-gloved hand to tilt her chin up and looked at her face appraisingly. Whatever he was looking for, he must have found it, because in the next moment he leaned down to kiss her.

The first touch of his lips was light, almost inquisitive, and despite his words and his forceful presence, Anavelle understood that he was giving her a chance to refuse him. As if she would -- but then, he knew that, didn’t he?Gathering her nerve, she reached out to grasp his shoulders, answering his unspoken question by parting her lips slightly beneath his. She felt him smile before he accepted her invitation, deepening the kiss with a sudden, hungry intensity that drew a muffled sound of surprised pleasure out of her. Ravish her or devour her, she’d wondered -- maybe he meant to do both. Her hands tightened on the fabric of his jacket; somehow she felt like she might drown, which made no sense, but rational thought was difficult to bring to bear right now.

After several long, dizzying moments, Lucifer finally gave her the chance to come up for air, backing away slightly to look at her with a gaze that could probably have literally set things on fire. She was suddenly very glad of the solid wooden door behind her -- she was fairly sure she wouldn’t have been able to stand on her own two feet at the moment.

“Now listen, and listen well,” the demon said with quiet intensity, his eyes never leaving hers. “I will not be your possession. I will not belong to you, a puppet on a string or a dog on a leash.” He leaned close again, and Anavelle closed her eyes instinctively, expecting another kiss… but it was his fingers that brushed over her lips and trailed down along her throat, over the collar of her blouse, until his hand rested above her heart, which was beating far too fast.

She felt him lean even closer, his cheek brushing against hers and his horn grazing her head as his lips hovered near her ear. “ _You will belong to me._ ” 

…

Anavelle didn’t think she’d ever been so turned on in her entire life. She could feel her body responding to just his words, his voice. She bit her lip, hard, to prevent herself from saying anything ridiculous in the heat of the moment. As much as every (literally?) damned cell in her body wanted to surrender to him _right now_ , they were talking about a pact, and every pact had a price.

“Lucifer,” she said, her voice wavering only a little. He straightened to meet her eyes, one eyebrow raised expectantly. “Will this… will this cost me my soul?”

He laughed, actually seeming pleased that she’d asked. “A wise question, and almost too late.” He reached out to gently tuck a stray wisp of her hair behind her ear, then traced down the line of her neck to her collar again, this time catching hold of the ribbon-tie there. “No, Anavelle.” His expression softened for such a brief moment that she wondered if she’d imagined it. “I won’t take your soul.” He plucked at the ribbon’s bow, untying it with a quick flick of his wrist. “I _will_ take something else… something I think you won’t miss.” The knowing look in his red eyes was unmistakable.

 _So he knows._ She wasn’t really surprised. If any creature could sniff out a virgin, it would have to be a demon, right? 

She wasn’t religious, and didn’t put a value on chastity, really. It wasn’t like she’d been saving herself for marriage or anything like that, she just… hadn’t met someone she felt that strongly about, yet. A combination of crippling shyness and ambitious scholarship kept her from socializing much, back in the human world. She’d changed quite a bit here, mostly for the better… but was this the final test?

“Is that… the price of the pact?” Put that way, it felt skeevy. Would he have denied her if she _weren’t_ a virgin?

He shook his head. “Don’t misunderstand me. _You_ are the price of the pact.” Deliberately, he pulled the ribbon free of her collar; the feel of it sliding around her neck made her shiver. “However, there’s still the matter of the ritual.”

That last word distracted her from the other questions bubbling in her mind, like exactly what he meant when he said _she_ was the price… “Ritual?” With the other brothers, all she’d had to do was swap a drop of blood with each of them. It was hard to even think of that as a ritual, really.

“Mm. A little drop of blood won’t do, not for me.” As the demon spoke, he wound her ribbon around his gloved hands and slowly pulled it taut, meeting her eyes above it.

For a moment she actually felt light-headed, and wondered at it. _I didn’t think that was a real thing that happened, just purple prose or something. I guess all that blood is rushing somewhere else..._

_I’m fucking doomed._

“So. Do you still wish to make a pact with me, Anavelle?” Lucifer casually unwrapped the ribbon, but his gaze never left hers.

 _Doomed._ “Yes.”

His only immediate reply was a smile. A sharp gesture towards the phonograph halted the music, and then, without warning, he effortlessly swept her up, one arm around her back and the other under her knees.

“L-Lucifer! What if--”

“No one will see us,” he assured her as they crossed the threshold into the library. “They’re quite occupied with their party… which suits me fine. I’m not letting anyone else have you now.”

From someone else, the possessiveness in his tone might have creeped her out, but… this was what she’d wanted -- to be wanted by _him_. Trying not to let her fantasies of what was about to happen run away with her, she wrapped her arms around his neck as he carried her to his room.

 _  
“And this maiden she lived with no other thought  
_ _Than to love and be loved by me.”_

  
Pressed against him as she was, she felt, as much as heard, his soft laughter as she gasped in surprise at his sudden recitation. “My beautiful Anavelle Lee.”


	2. A Quick Study

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Lucifer teaches Anavelle some valuable things about mirrors and manners.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to break it where it ends, but it was probably the sanest place. The last chapter is quite a bit longer than the first two...

The door to Lucifer’s room opened as they approached, and shut itself quietly behind them. A familiar scent caught Anavelle’s attention as she looked around, bemused. The chandeliers were dark, the room lit only by the fireplace and the candles in the wall sconces. The unmistakable aroma of jasmine was in the air -- just a trace, but noticeable. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she caught notes of sandalwood and rose as well. She’d known what all of those scents signified even before taking up a serious study of witchcraft this year.

“Did you… were you planning for this to happen?” The arrogance of it should have bothered her, or maybe the realization of just how well he had read her desires should have embarrassed her, but… there was also something deeply thrilling, at a primal level, about the fact that he had been  _ lying in wait  _ for her tonight, and now she was caught...

Lucifer didn’t bother to reply, but his smirk spoke volumes as he gently sat her down on the bed.

...The enormous bed. Anavelle hadn’t paid it much mind before now, but the thing was almost absurdly wide. It was hard not to consider the possibilities of all that real estate...

“I’ll be but a moment,” he told her, unspoken promises in his smile before he disappeared into what appeared to be a walk-in closet. Left to her own devices, Anavelle slipped her shoes off and flopped back onto the bed, taking deep breaths to fight down some of her nervousness. The sensual floral aroma was a little stronger here, as if someone had tossed handfuls of flowers over the sheets and then whisked them away, but beneath all of that was the tantalizing scent of Lucifer himself. She tried to picture him sleeping and couldn’t decide on a pose that seemed right before the sound of his footsteps interrupted her musings.

To her surprise, he’d returned to his human form, though he’d shed his coat, waistcoat, and tie. He was still pretty much covered from head to toe, as always. She’d always wondered why… perhaps she’d discover the reason tonight. Or perhaps not. Lucifer seemed to hold tight to his secrets.

“Disappointed?” he asked in a teasing tone as he sat on the bed facing her, casually resting his weight on one arm.

“What-- No! No, I just… I thought maybe you needed to be in… er, full demon mode for the ritual or whatever…” 

“Mm, you’re not wrong,” the demon acknowledged with a slight smile. “But… First, I’m in no particular rush to get to that, and there are some preparations to be done.” His voice was almost a purr, and Anavelle didn’t bother holding back the little shiver it sent down her spine. “Secondly… well. Sometimes the horns just get in the way.”

Before she could think too hard on the intentions lurking beneath that comment, Lucifer slid off the bed and turned to reach for her hand. Not knowing what to expect, Anavelle let him pull her to her feet and lead her towards a full-length mirror that stood next to the armoire.

“Let’s try a little exercise,” Lucifer murmured in her ear, standing behind her. “Vanity is an aspect of pride, and I believe you could use a few lessons on the subject.” His eyes met hers in their shared reflection, and she blushed as she began to get an inkling of what he wanted.

“Mm...” The demon carefully swept her hair away from the side of her neck and bent to plant a kiss under her ear. “I think you understand.” She could hear his smile, even though she couldn’t currently see it. “Go ahead, Anavelle. Undress for me.”

Hands feeling strangely clumsy, she complied, slowly unbuttoning her blouse from the top down. Lucifer watched her intently in the mirror, making no move to help her until the shirt hung completely open. Then, before she could hesitate, he reached around and drew the blouse away from her, as if he were helping her take off a coat. Standing there in just her bra, she resisted the urge to cross her arms over herself protectively and  _ looked _ , since she gathered that was the point of this “exercise”.

She wasn’t too impressed; she’d never had a noteworthy physique. She just… was. She’d always carried in the back of her mind the knowledge that a non-zero number of people thought she was “cute”, and that was enough for her to be able to put the matter out of mind.

Right now, though… The way Lucifer’s eyes roamed over her reflection was making her question her previous assumptions.

“Don’t stop now,” he prompted her, trailing a finger lightly down her spine. Seeing herself shudder at his touch was strange, but seeing him lean close to nuzzle into her hair, eyes closed, was something else entirely… 

Obediently, she undid the fastenings of her skirt, stepping out of both that and her petticoat after Lucifer helpfully slid them down her legs to her feet. He somehow managed to barely touch her during that particular maneuver, but the fleeting sensation of his breath against the small of her back, then along the backs of her stockinged legs, as he knelt down was more than enough to send her pulse racing again.

“And isn’t this a pretty picture?” As the demon rose to stand behind her, he let his gloved hands trail along her thighs and up to her hips, where they paused while he regarded their shared reflection again. Anavelle met his gaze, then, almost against her will, examined herself in the glass. She was flushed, the heightened color reaching down to her collarbones; eyes traveling farther down, she could easily tell that her nipples had grown hard, even through the elaborate lace of her bra. The sight made her blush even harder, and she saw  _ that _ , too, painted on her pale skin.

Lucifer’s quiet, pleased laughter reminded her to be self-conscious, but before she could reflexively cover herself, he reached up and unhooked the clasp of her bra. “There. I thought women despised wearing these things, anyway,” he chuckled as he slid the lacy thing off of her shoulders. 

She was caught without a clever reply, robbed of speech as he gently cupped her breasts in an exploratory fashion, then began to trace slow, feather-light circles around her aureoles. Part of her wanted to close her eyes and lean back into him, to just lose herself in his touch, but there was also the mirror to reckon with… and she was starting to understand how powerful this sort of foreplay could be. Watching him touch her, or his intent expression as he did so, or meeting his eyes as he saw the effect he was having on her… It was an ever-intensifying spiral, and it was pulling her further and further in.

“Enjoying the show?” Lucifer asked as he slid one hand down to the waistband of her underwear. She tensed, and he distracted her by giving her a series of little bites along her shoulder. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but the unexpected sensation of teeth drew a yelp of surprise. 

“Oh-” Anavelle’s hand flew up to her mouth in chagrin. If anyone had heard that…

“Don’t worry, no one outside will hear anything that happens in this room.” Again, the demon’s half-lidded gaze seemed to imply… a lot of things. “Which is for the best, I think.” His hand slid further down, drawing her gaze with it. Otherwise, my brothers might get tired of hearing you calling my name…” With no further warning, he nudged the crotch of her panties aside, using one finger to curiously stroke along her folds.

“ _ Lucifer! _ ” she gasped, just as he’d predicted. She grasped his arm… but made no move to pull his hand away.

He hummed in satisfaction. “I’d say this is definitely working for you… you’re so wet already.” Hearing him say that, in  _ that _ voice, she was torn between utter mortification and… well…  _ lust _ .  _ Might as well call a spade a spade.  _ “Let’s get a better look, hmm?”

Withdrawing his hand, he took a step back and waited, an anticipatory smile hovering on his lips. At this point, Anavelle had given up on modesty; she knew her face was flushed as she quickly stepped out of her underwear, but it wasn’t from shame... 

“Perfect,” Lucifer breathed in her ear as he pulled her close again. The sight of herself, clad only in her black thigh-high stockings, was more provocative than she expected, and it seemed the demon agreed. There was no denying his growing hardness pressed against her buttocks through the soft fabric of his slacks, but she didn’t have much attention to spare on that as he resumed his leisurely exploration between her legs.

He met her eyes, daring her to look away as his gloved fingers slid teasingly over her entrance. “Even though it’s very clear you’re enjoying this... I think I’d like to hear you say it.”

“Mnh-!” She leaned back against him and he held her steady, his other arm around her waist. 

“Careful…” he chuckled. “Go on… tell me. Do you like this?” He rubbed his slicked fingers over her clit, and she gasped loudly.

“Y-yes!” she stammered, transfixed by the sight of his hand effortlessly undoing her.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” the demon murmured against her neck, holding her gaze. “Flushed and eager and so deliciously wet… for me.” His words sent a thrill down her spine, and her eyes drifted shut of their own accord. The motion of his hand was teasingly slow; she couldn’t help but try to push into his touch, and he withdrew with a throaty chuckle.

“Is there something…  _ more  _ you would have me do?”

“I…” Anavelle knew he wanted her to say the words, to ask, maybe even to beg. The mere thought of it made her moan softly in stifled desire. Could she bring herself to talk like that? She’d never…

Lucifer  _ tsk _ ed in her ear. “Holding out on me? Very well… I can be more persuasive, if need be.” With that, he scooped her up and carried her back to the bed, sitting her down on the edge before she realized what was happening. It wasn’t until he knelt down between her legs that she caught on, but even then, she didn’t quite know what she was in for when he lifted first her left leg, then her right, slipping her stockings off and planting lingering kisses along the inside of her legs, starting from her knees. As he moved higher up her thighs, the kisses turned into sucking and biting that Anavelle knew was meant to leave marks… and she really didn’t mind. The notion that he was branding her as his own was enough to give her a pleasant little shiver.

Pausing in his artistic labors, the demon looked up at her with a little smirk. “You know what these mean, don’t you?” Again, he seemed to be reading her thoughts. “Say it, Anavelle.”

She had always loved the way her name sounded on his tongue… and right now, hearing it felt just as electric as his touch. She savored that for a moment while she gathered the nerve to answer him. “It means that I… I belong to you.”

“Very good.” Despite his seemingly subservient position below her, there was no doubt that Lucifer was in complete control, and his eyes were alight with it. “Now that you’re feeling more talkative…” He lifted her left leg over his shoulder, then bent down and swiped his tongue over her clit, drawing a quiet gasp from her. “Do you wish for me to proceed?” 

“Yes!” she said quickly. At his prompting look, she added meekly, “Yes, please…” The need she could hear in her own voice made her ears burn in embarrassment.

“That will suffice… for now.” His tone made it clear that he would demand more detailed entreaties next time. Anavelle didn’t have much time to dwell on what she might have to say, however, as he set to work, lapping hungrily at the wetness of her arousal, teasing her clit, and plunging his tongue into her. Biting down on the lewd moans that came to her lips unbidden, she clenched her hands into the sheets and fought the urge to rock her hips. The firm pressure of his hands -- one holding her leg securely over his shoulder, the other pressed to the inside of her opposite thigh -- felt like the only thing keeping her grounded.

Lucifer seemed content to ignore her self-restraint for a while, steadily pushing her towards her peak -- but just when she thought she was on the brink, he pulled back and looked up at her, eyes glinting with mischief as he licked his lips slowly. “Don’t hold back, Anavelle. I want to hear and feel how much I’m pleasing you.”

“Y-yes sir,” she replied, the formal address coming without a second thought as she trembled with the sensation of being shut down so abruptly. Either her docility or her obvious desire (or both) brought a grin to the demon’s face. 

“Oh,  _ very _ good.” He lowered his hands for a moment, and though she couldn’t see what he was doing, the sounds she could hear suggested that he was removing his gloves. Her guess proved correct when he resumed his hold; the sight of his bare hands, tipped with blood-red nails, splayed against her skin sent a renewed wave of heat through her body. “Now… where were we…”

This time, when Lucifer renewed his attentions, Anavelle tried to keep in mind what he had said about no one being able to hear them. Not holding in those little sighs and moans of pleasure felt… distressingly obscene at first, but as that familiar tension began to build in her core, her sense of shame was eventually left by the wayside. When he slowly slid first one, then two fingers into her, she couldn’t help rocking her hips into the contact, making soft wordless sounds of need; when he crooked his fingers slightly, those sounds became a breathless, feverish stream of encouragement.  _ Yes, there, please, yes, Lucifer... _

Even though she’d never been intimate with another person, she was a modern girl with a few helpful toys in her nightstand… but a powerful electric buzz was nothing compared to this -- an eager mouth, clever fingers, and the most knowing, wicked eyes in the Devildom. She felt exquisitely trapped, caught up in a torrent of sensations that were out of her control. Part of her didn’t want the slow, sweetly torturous crescendo to end, but another part of her couldn’t help but chase the climax that was coming. Lucifer’s firm hold on her leg over his shoulder was the only thing keeping her relatively still as he played her like a virtuoso, the sounds he coaxed out of her sliding higher and higher in pitch.

And then, as she inched up to the breaking point -- he stopped, again, sitting back and slowly withdrawing his fingers. The sudden feeling of emptiness desperate to be filled made her whimper in frustration. 

“Lucifer,  _ please, _ ” she moaned, at the moment not caring how wanton she sounded.

The demon’s only immediate reply was to salaciously lick his fingers clean, which very nearly finished her off then and there. He laughed at her obvious vexation as he rose to his feet and made a show of unbuttoning his shirt cuffs.

“I told you I was in no rush…” he said with an evil grin. “But maybe if you ask nicely enough… I’ll change my mind.”


	3. The Ritual

_“I told you I was in no rush…” Lucifer said with an evil grin. “But maybe if you ask nicely enough… I’ll change my mind.”_

Anavelle’s mind still felt hazy with lust, but she still felt a thrill of nervousness as she realized just how explicit her begging would probably need to be to satisfy him at this point. She licked her lips and realized he was still watching her, waiting. Self-consciously, she closed her legs, torn between savoring and ignoring the needy ache rooted there.

“I…” She closed her eyes for a moment to escape Lucifer’s ruby stare. “I want to… to feel you inside of me,” she said in a rush. Biting her lip, she dared a glance at him, to find him smiling speculatively at her as he started to unbutton his shirt.

“Keep going… _What_ do you want to feel inside of you, Anavelle?”

To her mild surprise, as flushed as she was, she was still capable of blushing even harder. “Your… your cock,” she managed to say in a near-whisper.

“Hmm…” Lucifer’s tone was non-committal as he continued his unbuttoning. “I’m not sure how convincing that was…”

Up until now, Anavelle thought she had been spared most of the Avatar of Pride’s sadistic tendencies, but she wasn’t so sure anymore. _Maybe… maybe if I just think about what it’ll feel like, it’ll be easier to say…_ She unconsciously rubbed her thighs together, only realizing it when she felt the demon’s attention more sharply focused on her. “ _Please_ , Lucifer… I _need_ it.” Her cheeks were burning at her own shamelessness. “I need to feel your cock in me, filling me…”

When she dared to look up at him, he had removed his shirt, and she snapped out of her self-consciousness for a moment to drink in the sight. He was… almost _too_ perfect, an artistic ideal like one of those classical Greek statues. Of course he noticed her rapt attention, and smiled indulgently before pushing her further.

“I see… You _need_ it, hmm?” He stood before her, his knees almost touching hers; gently cradling her face in his hands, he tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “Then... what is it you want me to _do_?”

His very slight emphasis on the last word prompted her. “I want… I want you to fuck me. _Please_ …” She felt herself trembling with equal parts humiliation and eagerness, and his intent gaze somehow made her feel even more naked than she already was.

“Are you sure?” Something in his smile told her that yes, he already knew every dark desire in her heart, but he wanted to hear her say them out loud for his own amusement.

“Yes! Yes… master…” The last came to her lips instinctively. He had utter control of her, of this entire situation, and she had willingly let it happen. Deep down, she knew she could put an end to this if she wished, but... _Is this… what I_ really _want?_ Hesitantly, she raised her hands to cover his, still cradling her face. “Please, master.” She tried the word again, finding unexpected pleasure in the way it seemed to trip a hidden switch in her mind when she said it: _submit, surrender yourself, you are entirely his._

She wasn’t the only one affected -- Lucifer’s lips were slightly parted as he stared down at her, and for the first time, he seemed to be visibly restraining himself. “Very well, my darling. If you’re ready, then…”

Anavelle didn’t have time to ponder the unexpected term of endearment before that familiar reality-bending sensation crept up on her again. She had to look away, but she felt the slightly firmer pressure of Lucifer’s hands, and the soft eddies of air stirred by restless wings.

When she met his eyes, they glowed with the same inner fire that had mesmerized her in his office, and once again, he seemed to study her for a long moment, as if he was examining her thoughts -- or her soul. His smile carried a hint of… malice? wickedness? that wasn’t there a moment ago. _Is that just because he’s more demonic-looking now, or…_

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” the demon said softly, his hands running up from under her chin into her long hair, “to have you here at my mercy…” He dragged his nails lightly along her scalp, drawing a soft sigh out of her. “To hear you crying out my name…” Suddenly he tightened his hands in her hair, pulling her head back slowly. “ _Literally_ begging me to fuck you,” he breathed as he bent down to kiss her hungrily.

Any apprehension she’d had after his change of form was swept away by the raw heat of that kiss, his insatiable tongue and the lingering taste of her own arousal rekindling the need deep in her core. She moaned softly against his lips, and he let out an amused sound in reply, relinquishing his grip on her hair as he finally broke away.

It seemed that Lucifer was done tormenting her with anticipation; he wasted no time removing the rest of his clothes. Anavelle looked on with rapt attention. He really was a vision of dark perfection, from his horns, to his wings (Were they as soft as they looked? She would find out soon...), to his well-sculpted body, to his…

She licked her lips nervously as she got her first look at just how generously endowed he was. Biting her lip, she looked up at his face, only to find him watching her with a knowing smirk. As he moved towards her again, she scooted farther back onto the bed -- not out of fear or coyness, but just because the edge of the bed didn’t seem like the right place. Whether or not he understood her motivations, he caught her by one ankle and stilled her, then climbed onto the bed himself and advanced on her, eyes alight.

“Having second thoughts?” His voice was somewhere between a purr and a growl.

“No…” Her pulse had leapt when he grabbed her, and continued to drum rapidly as he loomed over her, one knee on either side of her legs.

“Hmm..?” The dubious sound he made -- and her own deepening sense of urgency -- prompted her to be more… deferential.

“Please, master,” she implored him, laying back and crossing her arms above her head like an altar-bound sacrifice. That obviously got his attention, because he spent a long moment silently gazing at her. Finally, he chuckled quietly and leaned down to murmur into her ear. 

“We spent all year trying to protect you from hungry demons, and here you are, laying yourself out like a banquet.” His lips brushed against her earlobe, then down along her neck, where he gave her several sharp-fanged little nips.

Anavelle tilted her head back to expose her neck further. “Only for you, master.” Every time she said the word, it seemed to _solidify_ , as if repeating it made it more true, more real.

Lucifer let out a contented hum as he dragged his teeth along her throat. She was half-afraid he would actually _bite_ her and draw blood, but he seemed content to just make her shudder. Unsure if she had permission to touch him, she slowly slid her arms around his back, then, when he made no protest, she finally gave in to her curiosity and gently brushed her fingers along the top of one of his wings. The feathers closest to his back were as soft as they looked.

“Are they what you expected?” the fallen angel asked as he continued trailing kisses along her collarbones, the smile audible in his voice.

“I… don’t know what I expected.” That was the simple truth -- what expectations could she have about a demon’s wings? “But… they’re beautiful.” She ran her hands along the top pair of wings, which he obligingly flexed towards her. For a moment she wondered how difficult it was to keep track of an additional four appendages--

\--And then his tongue swirled delicately around her right nipple, driving idle speculations from her mind with another set of new, exquisite sensations. She arched into his touch as he alternately teased her with his mouth and hands, licking, stroking, sucking and tickling, right to left and back again. As she squirmed in pleasure under him, she could feel his length pressing against her, and that reminder of what was still to come sent a feverish wave of heat through her body. Her fingers tightened in Lucifer’s hair (she was doing her damned best _not_ to grab onto his horns) and he propped himself up to look at her appraisingly.

“Hmm… do you think you’re ready?” Casually, he trailed his fingers down her abdomen, then lower, sampling the slippery proof of exactly how ready she was. She couldn’t help flexing her hips, pushing against his hand and letting out a desperate sound when he pulled away.

“ _Yes_ ,” she answered him out loud, knowing what he wanted. “ _Please_ , master, I want… ” As she spoke, Lucifer shifted position so that he was kneeling between her legs. He took his cock in one hand, thumbing at the bead of clear fluid that leaked from the tip. Anavelle’s voice trailed off as she stared, but she realized after a moment that he was watching her expectantly, waiting for her to finish her plea.

Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze and tried her best to verbalize the need that was consuming her right now. “I… I want to feel you inside me, filling me up… as deep as you can go. I want to cum with you inside me. I… I want to feel _you_ cum inside of me.” Lucifer’s eyes were half-lidded in an open expression of lust, his lips slightly parted as he slowly stroked himself. His obvious enjoyment of her words reminded her that she still held some of the power here; that knowledge let her say the rest without fear. “I want you to claim me as your own... master.”

His slow smile made her shiver. “Do you realize how much power you may be giving me over you, Anavelle?” He lowered his hands to trace lightly along her thighs, never taking his eyes off of her face.

She told him the truth, at least in that moment. “I don’t care.”

“Then you’re a fool,” he chided her in an amused tone, even as he slid his hands behind her knees and prompted her to bend her legs. He leaned over her, using one hand to guide his cock as he rubbed the tip along her folds and prodded gently at her entrance, her arousal making the contact delightfully slippery. Instinctively, she spread her legs wider, opening herself to him, and he chuckled approvingly at her eagerness. “A fool,” he repeated, “and now… you’re _mine._ ”

Finally -- _finally_ \-- the demon pushed into her, slowly at first to let her shift and adjust against him. It hurt a little as he entered, and she expected it to, but then -- then, as he slid deeper into her with a soft sound of satisfaction, she felt… _complete_ somehow, as if he was some piece she’d been missing until that moment.

“Mm… Anavelle…” Lucifer breathed, bending down to plant hungry kisses on her lips, along her jaw, against her throat. “You fit me so perfectly, do you feel it?” He propped himself up with one hand, while the other clasped her own, the feeling of their fingers laced together grounding her a little as she absorbed the sensation of being so utterly _full_. 

“Yes…” Her reply was somewhere between a sigh and a moan. It _was_ perfect… but Lucifer had ideas for improving on perfection. He began to rock his hips, slowly at first until he reached a steady rhythm, drawing a series of soft ardent sounds from her as her free hand wandered over his body, seeking some impossible way to pull him closer.

He responded to her unspoken need by guiding her to wrap her legs around him, which, she quickly discovered, let him thrust even deeper into her. “Aah... ! _Lucifer…_ ” His chuckle in reply was muffled against the hollow above her collarbone. She arched against him, her body moving of its own accord as she fell into a haze of pleasure.

With the motion of their bodies together becoming smooth and fluid, the fallen angel apparently felt that Anavelle was ready to try something different. Slowly, making sure not to pull out, he settled back on his knees, sliding his hands under her buttocks to raise her up to meet him.

“Grab a pillow,” he told her. It took her a moment for her lust-fogged brain to process what he meant, but once she figured it out, she reached out to snag one of the pillows behind her and awkwardly tucked it under her rump. Lucifer still held her hips, but she found that she didn’t have to strain so much to stay tight against him…

...Which was a good thing, because when he began thrusting into her again, the spot he was hitting inside of her made her arch back and cry out in a way she’d recall with mild embarrassment later. When she managed to focus on his face again, there was a pleased gleam in his eyes as he looked down at her. And he was definitely _looking_ ; in this position, he had an excellent view of her whole torso -- the rocking of her hips, the heaving of her chest, the curve of her neck…

Anavelle couldn’t dwell much on that in the moment, however. Now that Lucifer had found the spot he was looking for, he was quickly pushing her towards the climax he’d been denying her all night. Suddenly realizing he might leave her hanging _again_ , she reached to grasp his hands as he held her hips tightly.

“M-master, please,” she struggled to say coherently. His gaze sharpened as he met her eyes, and his slight smirk wordlessly prompted her to continue. “Please… let me… _ah!_ ” Her words cut off with a gasp as she shuddered at the edge of what she was about to ask for. Lucifer felt the tremor that ran through her as well, judging by the way his breath suddenly caught.

“Not to fear, darling, I’m counting on it,” he laughed a little breathlessly. He slowed his rhythm, giving himself time to speak. “I just need you to say my name at that moment. Will you do that for me?”

“Of-- of course, master,” Anavelle agreed, panting a little. It was something she might have done naturally anyway, but if that was what he wanted, she was more than happy to comply.

“Good girl.” The tone of his voice, threaded with a hint of _control_ even now, sent an electric shiver through her, and she clutched at his hands tightly as he picked up the pace again.

“I -- Lucifer-- nh…!” For a moment she felt as if she was literally poised on the brink of something vast, and then, as his movements became more urgent and erratic against her, he pushed her over the edge. “ _Lucifer!_ ” she cried out as the long-delayed wave of ecstasy crashed over her, almost overwhelming her.

The demon seemed caught up by her powerful climax, tiptoeing on the edge of his own. She could feel him trembling as he leaned down over her, capturing her lips with his own in a desperate kiss. His hips bucked against her as she wrapped her legs around him again, pulling him closer.

“Ah-- _Anavelle…_ ” Her name fell from his lips as he shuddered in release, a soft invocation somewhere between a gasp and a sigh. As he continued to slowly thrust into her, she felt a warmth spreading outward from her core, through her limbs, setting her extremities tingling. After a moment, it dawned on her that that sensation was _magic_ , and she tensed. Had he…

“Do you feel it?” Lucifer murmured, nuzzling against her neck. He was still inside of her, and didn’t seem inclined to break away at the moment.

“That’s... the pact…?” She realized the feeling was similar, but much more intense than what she’d experienced before with the other brothers. Given the… complexity of the ritual, that wasn’t surprising, but did it mean that her pact with Lucifer was different in nature than the others?

...Of course it was, if only because she was hopelessly in love with him. If he felt the same, even a little… Well. If there was anything she’d learned in the past year, it was that love, in all of its forms, had a power no demon or angel could deny.

“Mm.” He kissed her again, lingeringly this time. She reached up and slid her fingers through his hair, one hand stroking the nape of his neck to keep him close. When he finally broke away, it was with a satisfied chuckle.  
  


“ _And neither the angels in Heaven above  
_ _Nor the demons down under the sea  
_ _Can ever dissever my soul from the soul  
_ _Of the beautiful Anavelle Lee.”  
  
_

He recited the stanza softly, gazing into her eyes. Anavelle doubted that Poe had demonic pacts in mind when he wrote it, but it was surprisingly fitting…

“...Have you been saving that all year?”

“Hmph.” There was definitely a hint of mirth in the demon’s eyes as he rolled onto his side, bringing her with him. “Certainly not _all_ year… I wasn’t even sure I liked you for most of it.”

She was fairly sure the latter part was a joke, but she wasn’t brave enough to call him on it, even now. He must have read some of her doubts in her expression, however, because he drew her close enough to kiss again, and again, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her. He was the Avatar of Pride and might never openly admit the depth of his feelings for her… but maybe he would be willing to show her, instead.

When he finally relented, he gently disentangled himself from her and sat up. She felt something warm dribble onto her thigh as he pulled away, and blushed, both at the knowledge of what it was, and at the fact that she liked how it felt -- or rather, how it made her feel. _Yep… doomed._

Looking up quickly to see if he’d noticed her brief space-out, she found him regarding her with an expression that was almost sweet… for Lucifer. “Well. I believe that takes care of everything on your list?”

She turned her head, embarrassed, as she remembered what she begged him for earlier, but she had to laugh at his arch tone. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good. Because I have a list of my own -- things I’d like you to feel, things I want to show you.” Just his tone -- and Anavelle’s imagination -- were enough to send a shiver of anticipation through her, and she looked up at him again, wide-eyed. “It’s a very long list,” he continued with a wolfish grin, “but perhaps we can cross a few things off between now and sunrise...”

  
  


_Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. If you made it this far, thanks for reading! :'D I'm so sorry
> 
> I figured the end would dovetail nicely with what Lucifer says to MC in the morning >_>
> 
> Looking forward to the new game chapters soon! Very curious to see how things will resume with all of the boys. In the meantime, I think I still have some things to explore from Anavelle's first year...


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